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Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. “Too much sensibility and too cold a heart. She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. It seems to me very silly. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Priests and princes sought his knowledge of languages and philosophy and wantonly tried to throw themselves into his bed. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints.
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